Battle-Axe
by Kelly Chambliss
Summary: Before Hooch goes for her Hogwarts job interview, her friends warn her about McGonagall the battle-axe. One-shot.


**A/N** - - Written for the 2014 "Summer Wish List" fest at rarepair_shorts on LJ.

**Battle-Axe**

**by Kelly Chambliss**

- / - / -

"You'll be Rolanda Hooch. You're late."

The speaker was a dark-haired woman who stood at the foot of the staircase, her lips pursed. Her shoes were hidden under the hem of her long robes, but Hooch wouldn't have been surprised if she'd been tapping her foot in impatience.

Merlin! What a way to begin her Hogwarts job interview. Hooch plastered an apologetic smile on her face and hustled across the vast entry hall, her hand outstretched.

"So sorry," she said, trying to sound both genuinely contrite and yet not abject. There was a limit to how much self-abasement she was willing to offer for four minutes' tardiness. "A little trouble with the portkey. Yes, I'm Rolanda Hooch. Please just call me Hooch."

"Minerva McGonagall," said the dark-haired woman, shaking hands briskly. "Deputy headmistress."

Ah, so _this_ was Minerva McGonagall. The younger members of the Holyhead Harpies had warned Hooch about her. "You mean she wasn't your Transfiguration professor, too?" Mellora Pearce had asked. "I thought she'd been teaching there since the days of the Founders at least. She's mean enough to live forever."

"She's a right battle-axe," Lunella Watkiss had agreed. "Tongue like a razor, and she'd give you detention as soon as look at you. Although she did like Quidditch, I'll give her that."

"Not that she'd ever let a big game stop her from giving us reams of homework," Mellora said. "Well, better you than me, Hooch. _I_ wouldn't want to work with her, that's for sure."

"I have to get the job first," Hooch had laughed, but she'd filed McGonagall's name away as someone to watch out for.

And now here the battle-axe was, standing literally between Hooch and the stairs and metaphorically between Hooch and the position of Quidditch instructor at Hogwarts.

Not that being a Quidditch instructor at Hogwarts was how she'd planned to spend her retirement. Hell, she hadn't planned to retire at all - - well, not for some years yet, anyway. But two seasons ago, a Bludger-smashed hip had brought her flying career to a screeching halt. The hip had healed well enough, but Hooch was never going to be as agile as she had been, she could feel it, and so early retirement had seemed like the smart thing to do. Might as well go out at her almost-peak.

The Harpies had offered her an assistant coaching gig, but the prospect of being so close to the action without being a player. . .well, it hadn't appealed. Not so soon.

So that left. . .not much. Contrary to popular belief, professional Quidditch didn't make most players rich. Oh, Hooch earned enough, and being on the Harpies meant a lot of recognition and free drinks and the chance to bed beautiful women (more chance than she took advantage of, to be honest). But it didn't exactly leave her with piles of galleons in Gringotts.

She'd just about resigned herself to seeking employment outside of Quidditch when the Hogwarts position was advertised. It sounded perfect - - played to her skills, let her keep some contact with the game, and gave her the chance to help shape the next generation of Quidditch talent. True, she wasn't looking forward to being buried up here in the Scottish back of beyond, but hell's bells, that's what Apparition was for.

Yes, it sounded perfect, and she wasn't going to let her chances be spoilt by some uptight, overly-punctual Gorgon at the gate. So she cocked her spiky head slightly (a gesture that often went over well with the ladies) and smiled her winningest smile at the battle-axe.

"Nice to meet you, deputy headmistress. Will you be conducting my interview?"

The battle-axe actually smiled back. In truth, though, she didn't _look_ much like a battle-axe: sharp-featured, yes, but with her black hair and pale skin, she was rather handsome. And she had nice eyes.

"Please, call me Minerva," she said. "I'll sit in on your interview, but Headmaster Dumbledore will conduct it. If you'll come with me to his office. . . ?"

She turned and headed up the main staircase. Hooch, following along, noticed that she had a pretty decent figure for a battle-axe. There was a rather trim arse under those robes (from all that staircase-climbing, no doubt). The swish of Minerva's robes revealed an equally trim ankle, encased in a high-heeled black boot.

Better and better. McGonagall might still be as much of a dragon as her former students said she was, but at least she'd be easy on the eyes. And if she turned out to be one of those scolding bosses who was always taking everyone to task, Hooch could entertain herself with naughty fantasies about her (a favorite technique for dealing with intimidating players).

Headmaster Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk when Hooch and Minerva entered his office, but he rose and came to greet them with a twinkling smile.

"Madam Hooch," he said. "How nice to see you again. I've followed your career with interest; it's always good to see a Hogwarts old girl distinguish herself. Please, sit down."

Hooch was surprised to find herself feeling a little flustered; apparently one never quite got over that sense of nervous awe that a headmaster inspired.

But Professor Dumbledore soon put her at her ease, asking reasonable questions and seeming genuinely interested in her thoughts about how to teach broom skills and sportsmanship and athletic pleasure to students with a range of abilities.

Minerva said little, but her few questions showed that she had an excellent understanding of Quidditch. At one point, Hooch saw the headmaster throw her a questioning glance, and Minerva nodded.

The forty-five minutes of the interview flew past, and before Hooch knew it, the headmaster was rising and offering his hand. "Well, Madam Hooch, if the position and the salary suit you, I'd like to welcome you to the Hogwarts staff."

"I. . .I have the job?"

The headmaster smiled. "You do indeed. If you choose to accept it, that is."

Hooch had made up her mind. "I do," she said, shaking his hand firmly.

"You needn't decide immediately. If you'd like some time - - "

"No. I'm in."

The headmaster beamed. "Excellent. The appointment will need Board approval, of course, but that's a formality. I will owl you a contract within the week. In the meantime, Minerva can show you around and fill you in on the details."

- / - / -

The tour of the grounds was. . .interesting. Minerva explained that Hooch would be living in a flat in the same building that housed the Quidditch changing and equipment rooms. The flat was small, which was fine, and dark, which was not so fine. The walls were painted grey; the windows looked onto the back of the Quidditch stands. Not a place she'd call home-like, but probably a few wall-colouring charms and her own furniture would improve things.

Minerva was an informative guide, and if she wasn't exceptionally friendly, she wasn't very battle-axe-y, either - - unless by "battle-axe" one meant "businesslike and reserved." Hooch decided she could deal with that.

"We rotate weekend staff duties," Minerva said as they headed back towards the castle. "Most of us end up with one full weekend off per month, but since your Saturdays will usually be taken up with Quidditch matches, you can count on at least two free Friday nights per month. Is that acceptable?"

"Sounds fine," Hooch said, although her stomach sank at the thought of too many weekends spent by herself in the wilds of Scotland. She'd assumed that she would use all her weekend nights to Apparate to London and hang out with her friends.

Well, if she couldn't go to London, maybe London, figuratively speaking, could come to her.

"Are there any rules about personal visitors?" she asked. "Are they allowed?"

Minerva pursed her lips. "Hogwarts is not a prison," she replied. "We understand that staff members have personal lives. We ask only that you behave with propriety around students." She gave Hooch a sidelong glance. "Do you have a. . .husband? Or a gentleman friend?"

"Gentleman friend"? Really? Now _there_ was a term you didn't hear every day. Hooch hid a smile as she answered, "No, nothing like that. But I do have friends, and I'd like to have them visit."

"That's not a problem," Minerva said, a tad stiffly.

Oh, great, thought Hooch. Just when she'd decided Minerva wasn't a battle-axe after all, the woman went and started acting like a disapproving, virginal prude. Then again, it wasn't as if Hooch would have to be best friends with her. Hopefully the rest of the staff would be more fun.

When they reached Minerva's office, the talk turned to Hooch's coaching responsibilities and Quidditch schedule, and the job started sounding good again. She was definitely looking forward to working with the students. And she'd lived in some grotty digs during her time in the Quidditch minor leagues. Surely she could adjust to living as an adult at an isolated boarding school.

Surely.

- / - / -

Those thoughts came back to haunt her in her first term.

The first weeks were so busy with new experiences and duties that she didn't have time to be restless or down in the dumps. By November, though, with the days almost uniformly dark and damp and dreary, she was feeling stir-crazy. Oh, her colleagues were nice enough - - Pomona Sprout was a hoot, Aurora Sinistra could sometimes be temped out for a drink at the Three Broomsticks, and even Minerva turned out to have a witty sense of humour. But the long and short of it was, Hooch was lonely.

She mentioned this fact on one of the rare occasions that she had time to visit friends in London.

"Part of the problem," she told two of her former teammates over drinks, "is that there's no one like me up there. You know, someone who is into women. Or if there is anyone, I can't find her." Mellora and Lunella would understand the difficulty, she knew; they were among several lesbian players on the Harpies.

"I know you aren't big into the bar scene," Mellora said, "but you shouldn't rule out Haven. A lot of interesting women go there."

"What's Haven?"

Mellora stared. "You've never heard of Haven?"

"Afraid not."

Mellora and Lunella exchanged looks that clearly said, "Old people!"

"It's a witches' pub," Lunella explained patiently. "In the wizarding part of Edinburgh. It's really nice."

"There's live music and dancing on the weekends, " Mellora added. "You should try it - - it would be a pretty easy Apparition from Hogsmeade. And it's not just a young people's place. Plenty of old women go there, too. Er, well, I mean. . ."

"I know what you mean," Hooch said. "Never mind. When I was twenty-two, I thought anyone over forty was old, too. So it's nice of you cool young people to let this old battle-axe tag along with you."

Mellora grinned. "It's Professor McGonagall who's the battle-axe, remember?" she said. "_You_ are just a lot of fun."

"And Haven is a lot of fun, too," said Lunella. "You really should try it."

- / - / -

She _would_ try it, Hooch decided. She liked her job, but she also liked a bright, big city, and Hogsmeade just didn't cut it.

So on her next free Friday night, she dumped her coaching gear on her settee, donned her favorite black robes and trousers ("dashing," a former lover had called them) and Apparated to Haven.

Lunella had been right - - it was a nice pub, not too bright, not too loud, with a lot of cosy sofas and small tables. The live music would begin later in the evening, but for now, there was just a pleasant hum of subdued conversation punctuated with laughter and the clink of glasses. Someone was playing Celestina Warbeck on the juke box.

Hooch bought herself a pint at the bar and looked the place over, trying to find somewhere to sit that would give her a good view of the dance floor - - and of the witches she might want to invite for a dance.

She'd found the perfect sofa and was heading towards it when a voice hailed her.

"Rolanda Hooch! Over here!"

Merlin on a broomstick, it sounded like. . . .oh, god, it _was_.

It was none other than Minerva McGonagall. And she had a drink in her hand (it couldn't be firewhisky, could it? She only ever drank gillywater at the Three Broomsticks). _And_ she was sitting with a stocky, grey-haired woman with a monocle. No, it couldn't be. . .could they possibly be lovers? McGonagall and some butch?

Hooch hoped her mouth wasn't hanging open too idiotically as she walked over to their table.

"Fancy meeting you here," she said, and then mentally kicked herself from here to Hogwarts for making such a stupid remark.

But Minerva simply smiled and said, "Indeed. Fancy. Hooch, this is my friend Amelia Bones. We used to work together in the Auror division. Amelia, this is - - "

"Oh, I know who _this_ is," said Amelia Bones, getting up to offer her hand. "So nice to meet you. I've been a fan of yours for years. They didn't call you 'Warrior of the Air' for nothing, did they?"

"No, but I didn't pay them _too_ much," said Hooch. Amelia roared with laughter, and Hooch shook her hand, still trying to figure out if prim-and-proper Minerva and this bluff, hearty woman could be lovers.

"Join us," Minerva invited, nodding to an empty chair. "Amelia's partner Janet should be along soon, too."

Ah, not lovers, then, or at least, probably not currently. Interesting. "And what about _your_ partner?" Hooch asked Minerva boldly. Maybe she was being rude, but this whole evening was already so bizarre that somehow the normal rules didn't seem to apply.

"Oh, Min's completely single, can you believe it?" Amelia said. "Such a waste - - "

"Amelia, hush," said Minerva sternly, and her friend subsided, but not before throwing Hooch a wink and jerking her head in Minerva's direction.

Hooch winked back and lowered herself into the chair beside Minerva, who was looking particularly handsome tonight, her normally tightly-bunned hair arranged much more softly, and her trim figure nicely displayed in modest but well-cut casual robes.

"I'll get another round, shall I?" said Amelia Bones, jumping up and hurrying towards the bar in such a transparent ploy to leave Hooch and Minerva alone that Hooch couldn't help but laugh.

Minerva's answering smile was wry. "Sorry. Amelia is subtle only in her Auror work."

"She seems fun," Hooch said, noticing anew how nice Minerva's eyes looked when she smiled. "So," she went on, leaning in and waggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Come here often?"

This time, Minerva laughed outright.

Hooch grinned and let herself relax.

Maybe, just maybe, a winter spent holed up with a battle-axe wouldn't be so bad.

After all, every warrior needed one.

- - end


End file.
